Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Feeling like a Criminal and Swim Camp!

I am the person in our household who can "just say no." I'm the one that has to be firm with the telemarketers and with the people at the door asking me to change gas companies, etc.

Left on his own, my dear Bunler turns to a quivering mass of sympathetic jelly and tries to wrangle himself out of these situations by trying to say no without saying it. You can guess how successful that tactic is right?

No matter how many times I have told him that these people PREY on politeness, he still is the consummate Canadian nice-guy. For example, the Jehovahs still think they have a chance with Mike. They've given up on me, and simply ask for Mike when they come to the door. I have great fun with this, and tell Mike that his "friends" were asking after him.

One particularly awesome situation springs to mind -- upon arriving home after our Cozumel vacation earlier this year, we saw this Jehovah guy walk up to our house AT THE EXACT SAME MOMENT we pulled in. After flying from Cozumel, driving back from the Calgary airport -- what it must have taken for the moons and planets to align so this timing could happen! One could almost say it was divine intervention!

In May, I succumbed to Mike's nice-guy-ness. A young guy was promoting Just Energy -- getting us to switch over from Enmax (electricity) and Direct Energy (natural gas). I had already said NO and the guy was on his way, when Mike interrupted and with his niceness invited the guy INSIDE and signed us up....

Sure their 8.79 cents per kilowatthour whatever was good, but their gas price of $5.79 per Gigajoule-what-have-you is WAYYYYYYY higher than Direct Energy. There has been a handful of times where I paid more than $5.79 -- because I have all my bills going back to 2005 to prove it. ANYWAYS, let's just say, 6 months later and we are *almost* finally disentangled from the clutches of that company.

And I have been the one that has had to make the nasty phone calls, send the emails, and yes, I even went to our local RCMP detachment to see if I could file a complaint against them.

ALL BECAUSE MIKE COULDN'T SAY NO.

Am I a terrible person for throwing my dear Bunler under the bus like this? Probably.

So...all this preamble is a prelude to the most recent knock on our door. I shouted, "Come on in!" thinking it was my mother coming to drop off some stuff. When the door didn't open, my stomach dropped and I knew it was a door-to-door dude selling something. AARRRGH.

And I was in my PJs too -- at my weakest.

The guy was prepared when he saw the look in my eye. Before I could even get out, "No, I am not interested," he interrupted with a "I'm not selling anything, I'm not with the gas company or electrical company." Smart -- he'd done his homework. That initial one-two took the wind out of my sails, but I was still suspicious. And rightfully so...

Guess what he was selling? Some donation thing for (and I kid you not, these are his EXACT words) "You know those kids with the big bellies and flies in Africa?"

He had pamphlets of all these children from Third World (or whatever the political correct term is nowadays -- Have-Not perhaps?) countries, that he shoved at me. I knew I was up against a worthy opponent then. How can you say no without looking like a total jerk? These are starving kids I am refusing!!

I glanced down at the pamphlets and had the wherewithal not to take them from him (as he was trying to get me to do) but let him hold them as I fingered through them. I knew this was going to be uncomfortable.

Mike was in the background -- playing his computer game. I KNEW if he had answered the door, the cheque book would be out and we would be sponsoring 5 or more kids.

I gritted my teeth and went in for the kill. Told him, "No." The fight was on -- this guy had been prepped for every excuse, silence, or hesitation. I held firm and channeled my inner House. The match was coming to a climax -- he hit me square in the jaw with his final parting shot of "Why wouldn't you want to do something good in the world?" Still, I wouldn't budge.

With that, he turned away and started to walk down my front steps. I held my door open to make sure he didn't kick my cat (Peanut) as she had scurried out through the door whilst he was giving me his spiel.

The short and sweet version is it costs $400, you get underwater video of yourself swimming from various angles AND then get personalized feedback from our head coaches. They analyze your stroke and give you specific drills and instructions on what you can do to improve your stroke. This is GOLD.

There is nothing like having 3 swim coaches giving you constant feedback over a weekend. The camp is open to EVERYONE!! Not just MRT athletes -- anyone who wants to improve their swimming.

4 comments:

The swim camp is *AWESOME*. Sign up if you are interested in improving your swimming. End of story.

We never answer the home phone anymore. It's nice to have a number to give to the people we don't want to talk to. Unless I feel like tormenting people. (A hint to my friends, if that's the number you know, then talk to the machine for a few seconds, if we're there we'll pick up.)

We will never, ever give money to anyone coming to the door. Ever. For any cause. Every one of them is a scam artist. I say no. Then it's NO, even if they are talking. If they are still trying to talk I give them the look of incipient homicide, and ask what part of no they aren't understanding. They almost all leave. The Calgary Herald salesmen are the worst. Right up their with Greenpeace. I shut the door on the guy and turned out the light.

Don't even say anything beyond no. Don't give a reason. Just say no. Keep saying no until you are ready to graduate to "get the eff off my porch". Leave a little script for Mike on the door. "Mike, just say NO!"